Death Sentence
by TheNightshade43
Summary: A musing on how Typhon Nightshade would die in the War. Contains some disturbing themes and OC death.


Death Sentence

Typhon sat in his cell. With closed optics. He ignored the voices that tried to speak with him. Lately they'd been rather cryptic. Though in his opinion it was because he had been captured by the Autobots. He still couldn't believe it. How could the Decepticons lose so much ground after one battle? His memory was very hazy before capture. He couldn't even remember _how_ he'd been captured to begin with. He heard the slide of his cell door. The rustle of Energon being passed to him on the floor. Typhon glanced at it. But didn't move to take it. He could see their poison sliding through the contents of his cube. It was a venomous green slit that faded given some time. He glared up at the Autobot that rationed him; venom green optics standing out from the darkness of his cell.

"You cannot fool me." He stated with a hint of a growl. "I _saw_ the poison in there."

The Autobot sighed and walked out of the cell, closing and locking the door after him. Typhon could tell what he was thinking. They all thought he was crazy. Unstable. Too dangerous to stay online. Too bad for them the higher-ups wanted to keep him alive. 'But for what nefarious purpose do they have in store for me?' He thought to himself, clutching at his chest faintly when his systems played up again. It had been days since he'd allowed himself to consume any Energon. The last time he had been force-fed. Only a matter of minutes later he used his psychic powers to make himself vomit it out. He didn't know what they put in the Energon but didn't want to find out first hand.

After that little adventure they installed an inhibitor chip in his processor. He couldn't use his telekinesis anymore. His processor ached from the pressure that was steadily building up. An old memory resurfaced and he stood up quickly.

"Not this time." He vowed. This time they weren't going to strap him to the table and prod his insides like some kind of experiment. He wouldn't let them.

A soldier gazed at him like he was insane, weapon raised at the Decepticon's sudden movement. With a dark sinister smile Typhon had formed the perfect plan to make sure NO ONE touched him ever again...

The soldier took a step back; as Typhon's usual face coverings were taken away from him as a precaution.

"Want to play a game?" He cooed to the guard; attempting to reach into the Autobot's mind. It was a matter of time before he dominated such a simple mind. The Autobot went slack and walked towards the cell door. He punched in the codes to open the door and let Typhon out. The Communication Officer walked out of the cell slowly and willed the Autobot to charge into the recroom to cause a distraction. The Autobot complied with mindless dedication.

With that done he ran towards the exit. He heard the clamour of guards and sped up as fast as he could; he was NOT getting recaptured again. NONE of them were going to open him up. Ever.

If the Autobots didn't hesitate to hurt a Sparkling then what were they capable of doing to a fully grown Decepticon with information they so desperately needed?

He stopped swiftly as shadows blocked his progress.

He growled; backing away from them as they walked towards him. They were muttering amongst themselves over what they were going to do with him. None of it pleasant.

He took off in another direction. Growing weaker due to the lack of Energon. If he was like most of the other Decepticons he would have been forced into stasis lock a long time ago.

A small room beckoned to him. Without a second thought he bolted into it and locked the door behind him. With a tired sigh he leaned against the door and closed his optics. The effort to remain upright was almost too much to bear. His systems heated up dramatically; making him pant in order to vent in more air to cool himself down.

Once he had amply recovered he stopped and looked around the room. His optics widened.

"No---not here!" He begged to no one in particular, backing into the door even more.

Right in front of him stood a medic berth with straps around the sides and bottom.

The door bucked violently against him. In instinct Typhon ran into the room, past the medic berth, towards a small chute. It was nothing more than a disposal chute designed to destroy whatever fell down it. Not even a cassettecon could fit down there without transforming; not that they would WANT to.

BANG!

The door refused to open.

"Slaggit get in there!"

BANG!

"We can't let him hurt himself; we need information."

BANG!

"How the slag is he gonna hurt himself in there?"

BANG!

"Do you even WANT to know how?" The leader asked in annoyance.

Typhon took a step back and felt the familiar sensation of cool metal bite into his lower back. He stifled a yelp when a scalpel clattered past his servo and onto the ground below him. The voices laughed cruelly; taunting him.

"**You're never going to escape."** One purred right beside his audio.

"**They're just going to harvest your information and turn you into one of their slaves..."** The second one added with a sadistic slur. Typhon picked up the scalpel with shaking servos.

"They will not!" He argued with a laugh. "No one will. It all ends here Doctors." He giggled with chaotic glee as he sat next to the disposal chute and went to work, opening his helm and cutting the inhibitor out of him.

By the time the Autobots got inside Typhon stood proudly with the inhibitor chips in his servo and the Energon-filled scalpel in the other servo, holding the small weapon towards them as he laughed. His helm was leaking Energon from the wounds he had self-inflicted.

"Ooooh you were so busy!" He chided, opening his other servo to reveal several processor chips that he had hacked out of his helm. One small inhibitor chip was clustered alongside them.

A few of the Autobots looked like they were either going to faint or throw up. Most likely both at the same time by their expressions. Most of them were scared of the psychotic mech that stood before them. A few were either sympathetic or angry. "Implanting me with control chips!"

The leader of the group of Autobots; and the only Medic there, took a slow step forward.

"Let me help you!" He ordered, getting out an EMP generator. "You just removed very important circuitry. You could be damaged permanently if we don't----"

"Stop lying!" Typhon barked, dropping the circuits and taking a step back to the disposal chute. "You all want to hurt me; and now...I know how to stop anyone from hurting me ever again!"

The Autobots' expressions distorted evilly as he fought to remain online. One more seemed to appear next to him and tried to drag him towards the table. He shrugged it off, turning towards the chute before him.

"Say good bye to the world..." He cooed to himself with a laugh, hearing an order to seize him quickly.

Before any of them could do anything Typhon ripped at his processor while readying his telekinesis for one last attack. 'A moment of pain.' He reasoned. 'And then nothing more. No pain. No suffering. No information for them to get.' With one last chaotic laugh he psychically ripped out his processor and threw it into the disposal chute. There was an instant of blinding pain. Then nothing as he collapsed onto the floor. Everything faded as the Autobots ran to him. Far too late to save him. He smiled tiredly as his optics offlined. "I...won..."

He said before everything was forgotten. His Spark slowed as someone cradled him carefully. And then...nothing. With one last defiant act Typhon had beaten the Autobots. And terminated himself.


End file.
